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DC: System Shock (COMPLETED)

Well, if I had plans for a wild adventure, this wasn’t what I had in mind. One moment I’m crashing on the couch, thumbing through my dog-eared DC Comics collection, and the next... Boom! I’m smack dab in the middle of Metropolis, and let me tell you, it's not the Metropolis you see on postcards. Imagine, the skyscrapers you dream about from movies and comics, now they're crumbling. Flashing lights and explosions paint the skyline. No, it's not some fancy holographic display; this is real, alarmingly real. There I was, regular old me, standing in all my awkwardness in a city under siege by god-knows-what-and-who. Superman is up there, cape fluttering and all, throwing down with these ominous-looking entities. And me? I'm over here, equal parts stunned and terrified. As debris rains down like a disaster movie on steroids, I’m diving for cover behind a partially collapsed building. The dusty, shredded pages of my comic collection flutter around me, a stark contrast to this gritty, chaotic reality. Then, out of nowhere, this shimmering interface pops up, hanging in the air like a neon sign in Times Square. It’s like some cosmic computer screen offering me options like I’m about to pick a new phone plan. I poke at it because what else do you do when you’re yanked from your comfy world and dropped into a super-powered showdown? The thing offers guidance, quests, and, get this, points. Points! Like I’m suddenly part of some cosmic rewards program. So here I am, taking cover, trying not to stick out like a sore thumb in my jeans and old band t-shirt, while navigating an interface that might as well be from a sci-fi flick. “Welcome to the Universal Network System,” it says. And I’m thinking, “Yeah, thanks for the warm welcome, but can I get a ticket back to my couch?”

Wicked132 · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
98 Chs

The World's Greatest Detective #54

Balancing the tray of refreshments with practiced ease, Alfred placed it carefully on the table, his composed demeanor barely masking his inner perplexity. "I suppose I should have sensed trouble brewing when Master Wayne decided to return ahead of schedule," he murmured under his breath, earning a sharp glance from Batman.

"What's that, Alfred?" Batman's voice was firm, his gaze probing.

Alfred offered a polite smile. "Merely my own musings, sir. Nothing of consequence," he replied, stepping back after arranging the table to perfection. "Feel free to engage in your discussion. I shall remain close by," he added, positioning himself discreetly behind Batman, his curiosity barely contained.

As Batman and his unexpected guest settled into conversation, Alfred couldn't shake the nagging sense of bewilderment. He had been prepared to go to great lengths to protect his employer's secret identity, even entertaining the notion of impersonating Batman himself if need be. 

However, the unexpected turn of events had caught him off guard, leaving him grappling with a mystery he was determined to unravel.

Batman cast a lingering glance at Alfred, who remained steadfast in his position, showing no signs of leaving. With a resigned shake of his head, Batman proceeded to remove his cowl, much to Alfred's evident horror. 

Micah, however, reacted with a mere sigh, his expression reflecting a resigned acceptance of the unfolding situation.

"You've dispensed with the charade entirely now?" Bruce Wayne, now unmasked, remarked with a hint of amusement, his lips curling into a wry smile. 

Micah, unfazed, responded with a bitter smile of his own. "You wouldn't have brought me here if you weren't convinced I already knew your secret," he stated with a shake of his head. "I'd like to know what makes you so sure, though," he continued, his tone tinged with curiosity.

"You seem to know far more than I anticipated," Bruce admitted, his surprise evident. 

He had harbored doubts before, but the level of insight displayed by the young man standing before him suggested a deeper understanding—an understanding that extended beyond mere knowledge of his secret identity to the intricacies of his thoughts and actions, closely guarded secrets that he had never imagined would be laid bare.

Micah's demeanor in his exchanges with Bruce appeared almost unnervingly strategic, as if he possessed an uncanny knack for navigating their brief interactions with calculated precision. 

He seemed to know exactly when to stand his ground and when to yield, pushing Bruce's patience to its limits before easing off at just the right moment. But that wasn't all.

"To answer your question... it's through keen observation that I'm certain," Bruce affirmed, his tone unwavering. "I've dissected your interrogation at the Watchtower multiple times, and that was the first tell..." he elaborated.

"The way you deflected Hal's probing about your knowledge of the future, deliberately baiting and provoking him to divert focus," he continued.

Micah, unimpressed, crossed his arms. "That could have been mere coincidence, you know? Not everyone responds to yes-or-no questions with a straightforward yes or no answers," he countered, fixing Bruce with an incredulous gaze.

Bruce nodded in agreement. "Indeed, but as I've mentioned, that was merely the beginning..." he elucidated. "Take your encounter with Ted Grant, for instance, and how your demeanor shifted the moment you learned his name, almost as if you were privy to more information," he continued.

Micah scoffed dramatically. "Well, of course, I'd change my attitude. Ted Grant is a world-renowned boxing champion, and I went to his gym with the intention of picking up some fighting skills," he retorted, waving his hand dismissively.

Bruce shook his head. "But there was more to it, wasn't there? You readily acknowledged his association with Batman and even speculated about his connection to Ted Kord, another Justice League member..." he elaborated. "If that doesn't suggest knowledge of his secret identity, then what does?" he pressed.

Micah met his gaze with a challenging look, undeterred. "Even so, that merely suggests awareness of Kord and Grant's alter egos; it doesn't necessarily imply knowledge of your own," he countered defiantly.

"No, but your manner of interaction does... Though our encounters have been few, you seemed to possess an innate understanding of how to navigate our world and its inhabitants," Bruce calmly asserted. 

"As a stranger with an undisclosed agenda, I should naturally harbor suspicion toward you. Yet, you've managed to earn my respect with mere words," he added, offering a faint smile.

Bruce nodded, as if to affirm his own observation. "Indeed, your adeptness at maneuvering through delicate situations has not gone unnoticed," he concurred. 

"Your deal with Superman, the proposition you presented regarding Livewire, and the words you spoke to Victor Zsasz to make him let go of the hostage in the Asylum—all these instances hint at a deeper understanding," he elaborated. 

He proceeded to methodically unveil the various clues he had pieced together, including Micah's expedition to the Black Forest and his encounter with the Penguin.

Standing by and listening to Bruce's revelations, Alfred's eyes widened with each new detail. Micah, meanwhile, wore an expression of profound exasperation, while Rattigan perched on his shoulder, seemingly unfazed and indulging in a biscuit.

Once Bruce finished recounting his deductions, Micah mustered a bitter smile. "I knew you'd keep tabs on me... but I didn't anticipate it to be this thorough," he remarked with a sigh. 

"I expected you'd catch on eventually, but I didn't imagine it would be this soon," he added, reclining in his seat with a defeated air, as though resigned to the inevitability of the situation. 

"As expected of the Dark Knight of Gotham, I suppose... Your penchant for paranoia never fails to impress," he concluded, offering a genuine smile as he met Bruce's gaze once more.

In the dimly lit Batcave, a peculiar glimmer shone in Micah's eyes. Despite the unraveling of his meticulously crafted schemes to conceal his knowledge of the future for as long as possible, there was no hint of irritation or frustration. Instead, a genuine sense of delight illuminated his features. 

Gone was his customary playful smirk, replaced by a smile brimming with unadulterated joy. In this moment, Micah bore a striking resemblance to a wide-eyed child beholding their lifelong hero, devoid of his usual obstinate pride and sharp-witted sarcasm that defined his existence. 

The fleeting moment of genuine delight on Micah's face quickly gave way to his customary smirk. "I'll concede this round, but..." He trailed off, grin widening. "How do you suppose I came by all this knowledge? I'm eager to hear your deductions," he prompted. 

Bruce returned the smile, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "That question stumped me for quite some time," he admitted. "While I could attribute your knowledge of a few future events and a handful of secret identities to your involvement with the League in your former world, there's more to it than that," he mused. 

"I've fought crime for years, been part of the League, and known its members for quite some time, yet even I lack intimate knowledge of the personalities of so many extraordinary individuals," Bruce explained.

Micah nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "That tracks," he remarked, acknowledging Bruce's deductions.

Bruce pressed on, undeterred by the interruption. "The Justice League in your world might operate under a different set of rules, where identities are public knowledge. That could explain your knowledge of our identities," Bruce reasoned. "But it doesn't quite cover how you seem to know every little detail about both heroes and villains."

Bruce's expression turned slightly more severe. "You said the Justice League exists in your world, and I don't doubt it, but existence has many forms..." He stated. "The form of the League's existence in your original world is the only thing that could explain your knowledge..." 

Micah's expression shifted again at Bruce's words, a spark of excitement lighting up his eyes. "So, how do you think the Justice League exists in my world?" he inquired, his interest barely contained.

Bruce considered for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. "It's just a theory, but in your world, maybe the Justice League exists as fiction. Widely known, accessible to everyone, even regular civilians like you," he theorized.

Micah's shrug was nonchalant, yet there was a spark of challenge in his eyes. "Could be. But here's the kicker – I'm not your average Joe," he retorted, conjuring a shadow blade into his palm as if to emphasize his point.

"It's not beyond the realm of possibility for a powered individual to gather such intel, is it?" Micah questioned, his gaze locking with Bruce's while the latter remained unfazed, shaking his head calmly.

"I may not know how you attained those powers, but one thing is for certain," Bruce asserted with conviction. "When you first arrived here, you were entirely ordinary."

He paused, emphasizing his point. "Hal confirmed it after scanning you with his power ring. Apart from the peculiar footwear you're currently sporting, there was no trace of any extraordinary abilities."

Bruce's demeanor exuded confidence as he continued, his words carrying weight. "Superman even verified that you didn't possess those shoes when you initially appeared in our world."